


How To Burn Katsudon

by Silvandar



Series: Multi Fandom Drabbles and One-shots [6]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bad Cooking, Cooking Lessons, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Fluff and Smut, Love, M/M, Post-Canon, Sex, VictUuri, Victor can't cook, Yaoi, Yuri and Yuuri are friends, st petersberg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 03:38:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16925757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvandar/pseuds/Silvandar
Summary: Victor is a terrible cook, he can even burn water. Yuuri decides to teach him how to cook his favourite dish.Inspired by@mimiaguilaron Instagram <3





	How To Burn Katsudon

**Author's Note:**

> [Katsudon recipe here ](https://www.japanesecooking101.com/katsudon-recipe/)

“I do NOT burn water!”

Viktor Nikiforov is completely adorable when he sulks. His lower lip pouts out and his ocean blue eyes crinkle, and he huffs into the mass of thick silver hair that usually flops in his face. Watching him fold his arms across his chest and pull that face makes Yuuri's inner fanboy curl up in a ball and squeal incoherently.

Holding the scorched, bone dry pan aloft as mute testimony to his accusation, Yuuri raises an eyebrow. “Can we just at least agree that you don't cook unsupervised from now on?”

Further sulking, but Victor's eyes are twinkling, and Yuuri knows he's in danger of being grabbed and lovingly molested at any moment. Determined to make his point before Victor distracts both of them, he steps back out of reach. He fetches up against the counter in the small kitchen, and the taller man spots his moment of weakness, leaping across the distance and pinning him to the unit, hands either side of him on the cool marble.

“Victor...”

His protests are cut off by lips on his throat and a hand in his hair. Giving up, Yuuri drops the pan on the floor and grabs the front of Victor's shirt, pulling his coach harder against his body. Dinner can wait.

 

Shopping the next day consists of Yuuri going to the market on the way home from practice, with a grumpy World Champion in tow. Yuri Plisetsky as his unenthusiastic chaperone for food shopping has become the norm ever since Victor realised Yuri was living off takeaway after moving out of Lilia's house, and that Yuuri couldn't speak good enough Russian to avoid being haggled into bankruptcy by the market traders. The pairing is fairly effective; Yuuri finds simple things for Yuri to practice cooking, and Yuri protects Yuuri from being ripped off. The scowling, aggressive blonde guarantees a good deal out of most of the stall holders, if only to get rid of him as soon as possible.

“That's chicken. You said you wanted pork?”

Yuuri replies in his stumbling, broken Russian. “Ahh... thank you! How to spell?” Privately, Yuri admits the older skater's Russian is already better than Yuri's Japanese is ever likely to be.

The blonde shows him the Cyrillic for pork and sounds it out, and the silver medallist repeats it, looking worried about his pronunciation. Sighing, Yuri points a finger directly into the butcher's face and explains in curt, angry Russian that his companion wants a decent brace of pork loin chops.

“What else do you need?”

“Mmm... I've run out of dashi... the Asian supermarket round the corner has it.”

Glaring at the Japanese, Yuri pulls out his phone and googles the recipe for Tonkatsu. “Coat the meat in flour, dip in eggs, then cover with breadcrumbs... then deep fry in oil... no wonder you used to be so fat, eating this all the time.”

“You liked it too... and it didn't make you fat...”

“I put on two pounds in Hasetsu. I had to live on broth for a month when I got home.”

Yuuri frowns at the tiny blonde, trying to work out if he's joking.

 

When Victor arrives back at their St Petersberg flat, he's greeted with the smell of freshly made Tonkatsu. Smiling, he strips out of his coat and boots, and goes in search of his fiancée. He finds Yuuri in the kitchen, surrounded by an alarming number of pans and bowls filled with different ingredients.

“What's this?”

“You're making dinner. Under _very_ close supervision.”

Victor looks around, baffled. Some hot, freshly cooked slabs of breadcrumb coated meat, a series of bowls containing various liquids, some chopped green onions, thinly sliced nori and the blinking light on the rice cooker Yuuri brought from Japan, announcing the rice was nearly ready. Understanding dawns as he spies the pack of eggs, and his eyes light up.

“We're making Katsudon?!”

“ _You're_ making it” Yuuri corrects him, pressing against him and pulling his head down for a kiss. “I'm supervising.”

“Does supervising include more kisses?”

“Only when you get things right...”

 

Mixing the liquid ingredients together without spilling too much or knocking over any of the tiny bowls gets Victor five kisses, one for each ingredient he manages to add without incident. Starting the process of cooking the broth causes minor alarm as he nearly sets his dishcloth on fire, because he insists on wearing it over his shoulder like a French chef. Yuuri deals with the crisis and sets him to chopping the Tonkatsu into strips, monitoring his use of a sharp kitchen knife with eagle eyes.

The former Champion sticks his tongue out with concentration as he chops the meat, bending almost double in his effort to get the slices right. It's only lightning fast action from Yuuri that stops him cutting his own fringe along with the pork, and by this time the Japanese is giggling from how ridiculous his lover is being. Half convinced Victor is faking his ineptitude, he shows him how to add the meat to the bubbling sauce and hands him the bowl of beaten eggs.

“I'm not ruining dinner, am I?”

Eyeing the devastation of the kitchen so far, the piles of empty bowls, spills of eggs, and the spots of mirin sauce all over the units, Yuuri gives Victor a searching look. The Russian looks _nervous_ , his fingers twitching on the bowl and his eyes earnest. Shaking his head in amusement, Yuuri pushes himself up on tiptoe and kisses him soundly.

“You're doing fine. Add the eggs, we're nearly done.”

Doing as he's told, Victor pokes the meat about in the saucepan as the beaten egg begins to cook. Yuuri asks him to add the green onions, and he sniffs the mixture curiously.

“It smells good” he says, and Yuuri wraps his arms around his waist, pressing against his back.

“It really does” he smiles, kissing Victor's spine through his t shirt. The taller man twists in his embrace and turns to face him for more kisses, and Yuuri quickly tugs him away from the cooker before he can set his clothes on fire.

“I'm hopeless at this” Victor admits, and Yuuri nods, pulling his head down and pressing their foreheads together. The silver haired skater wraps his arms tightly around his fiancé and stares lovingly into the deep brown pools of his eyes.

“Lack of practice, that's all. You're a grand slam winning figure skater, there's no way you're naturally this clumsy.”

“My feet are fine, my hands are rubbish.”

This time, it's Yuuri's eyes that twinkle, and Victor realises he's walked into something he's almost certainly not going to regret.

“Your hands have always seemed pretty good to me...”

“Oh, really? Doing what...?”

Yuuri pushes him out of the kitchen space with a hungry sounding growl, and Victor finds himself on his back on the couch. Gasping as his fiancé climbs on top of his hips and begins nipping his way down his throat, he tugs at his shirt, wanting skin to skin contact. “Yuuri...”

Another growl answers him, and Victor murmurs happily as his lover finishes pulling their tops off. He runs his fingers over tight muscles and beautiful, creamy skin, following his hands with soft kisses as Yuuri wriggles on top of him, shifting his position onto his lover's thighs.

“Yuuri... ahhh...”

Ever since they crossed the line between professional and personal, Yuuri has been aggressive with his desires, as if he'd flipped a switch when finally given permission to touch what he'd spent so many years lusting after. Now, after over a year of being intimate, Victor has come to understand that when he's focused on pleasure, just like when he's focused on skating, Yuuri is single minded and a little scary. It turns the Russian on instantly, and Yuuri knows it.

Now, he works his way down the pale landscape of Victor's torso, lips and tongue tasting every peak and valley of muscle as he licks pleasure into his lovers body. Sensitive to touch, it doesn't take long for Victor's head to drop back on the couch and his own movements to become erratic and uncontrolled. Yanking his jeans open and pushing them out of the way, Yuuri nips a trail over his hip and drags his nails lightly up his inside thighs, making the Russian mewl helplessly. As usual his lover isn't wearing underwear, and opening his fly releases the already thickening length of his arousal.

Panting as he drags off the rest of their clothes, Yuuri digs into the back pocket of his jeans for his emergency supplies, unwilling to stop long enough to get to the bedroom. Carrying lube and condoms has become second nature after a few incidents in the locker rooms demonstrated that they were useful everywhere. However, before he even considers opening the slim packets, there's something he always wants to do.

Pushing Victor's thighs apart, he rests one hand on his hip to hold him down and wraps the other one around the root of the gorgeous cock that is his to use and enjoy. Long and thick, it's not the first he's had, but it's the best, because it's _Victor_ and he wants to worship this man in every possible way. The Russian arches off the couch with a groan, and Yuuri silently says a prayer of thanks to whichever god put this man in his hands. Bowing his head, he licks his lover from root to tip before swallowing him with a deep, adoring moan.

Wet heat envelops Victor and his eyes roll back in his head as he sinks his fingers into Yuuri's hair. The Japanese skater has a skilful, agile tongue and he uses it brutally, flicking over the head as he bobs on his lover's cock. In moments he's rubbing into the slit and pressing against the thick vein underneath, driving the Russian into ecstasy without pause or hesitation. Victor can feel the tight grip around the base and the weight on his pelvis as Yuuri prevents his flailing from choking him; trusting his lover to cope with the movements, he allows himself to give voice to his pleasure as he bucks his hips.

Victor knows Yuuri loves to hear him moan and cry out, so he holds nothing back as he soars towards climax. The sounds are enough to make the smaller man rock hard and he shifts his weight, getting a firm grip on himself and stroking his twitching cock with a moan of his own before hollowing his cheeks and adding a little more pressure, just enough to take his lover over the edge. With a harsh cry Victor comes for him, flooding Yuuri's mouth with his fluids and sinking his nails into his shoulders before collapsing back on the couch with a breathless whimper.

Cold, slick pressure against his entrance makes Victor close his eyes and arch backwards, raising his hips as Yuuri pushes his fingers inside him. The Japanese leans over his fiancé, salty tongue winding into his mouth as he begins to stretch him, his voice purring in his own language as Victor writhes on the penetrating digits. Gasping at the taste of himself in his lover's mouth, he spreads his thighs and pulls Yuuri into his arms, wrapping long, pale fingers around the smaller man's cock to keep him hard and panting.

Working Victor open never takes long; the Russian relaxes as soon as Yuuri touches him, and the smaller skater knows exactly where to press and stroke once he's inside. Brushing a certain, sensitive spot brings Victor arching up into his kiss, and he devours his mouth eagerly. The hand around his cock has him aching and Yuuri pulls away, sheathing himself quickly and using the last of the lube packet as he settles between Victor's thighs as his lover moans his permission.

Pressing his lips against Victor's throat, Yuuri gasps as he eases inside, pushing slowly into heat and slick, throbbing tightness. Closing his eyes, he focuses on the erotic sounds coming from the Russian as he penetrates him, waiting until he hears his breathing slow before going deeper. He can taste the sweat on his skin and feel the pulse in his throat racing, pleasure and stretch combining to make Victor a helpless, hot mess underneath him. Growling his love and adoration, Yuuri begins a slow thrust, moving faster only when his lover cries out for it.

Gasps and moans fill the small apartment as they take up their rhythm, the sound of slick skin slapping against skin mingling with soft curses in several languages. Wrapping his legs around Yuuri's waist, Victor grabs the arm of the couch for leverage and pushes back against his thrusts, drawing him deeper inside until he feels that touch again, the insistent pressure against his prostate pulling a loud cry of bliss from his throat.

Taking his weight on his wrists, Yuuri moans in response to the flutter inside his lover, angling his thrusts to reach the place that he knows will make Victor explode. Long, pale fingers find the Russian's weeping cock and he strokes himself in time with the motion of Yuuri's hips, broken cries echoing around them. One last twist of his wrist and he hits his climax with something close to a scream, making Yuuri inhale sharply, the clenching of Victor's muscles working his buried erection and sending him hurtling over the edge. Groaning softly, Yuuri hilts himself one last time as he releases, the force of his orgasm doubling him over until his forehead is resting on Victor's chest, his body shuddering.

As they subside against each other, there's a piercing shriek from the smoke alarm that makes them jump so much Yuuri accidentally pulls out. They stare at each other in terrified bafflement before the smell of boiling eggs and charring meat gets through to them. Sighing, Yuuri unlocks Victor's legs from his waist and looks down at his lover, his expression a combination of post orgasmic bliss and amused irritation. Victor thinks he looks utterly gorgeous.

“I think we burned the Katsudon...”

 


End file.
